


Unravel

by Clocks



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Disabled Character, M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8737231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clocks/pseuds/Clocks
Summary: Erik doesn't want Charles to know just how much he misses him whenever Charles is away from the mansion. Or how the mansion is falling to pieces. Or how much he likes that new lilac sweater he bought for Charles in New York.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bettysofia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettysofia/gifts).



> Written for **bettysofia** for her prompt: "Erik has a thing for lilac sweaters." Thank you for the fun prompt and I hope you like the fic!
> 
> [Title is from 'Unravel' by Björk.]

There was a universal truth in the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters: whenever Professor Xavier left the mansion, trouble would soon surely follow. Erik was the last person willing to admit to this, because it would mean that he didn’t have control of the students as much as he’d thought he did. But after twenty years as reluctant Vice Headmaster, there was no getting around the fact that those brats could sense Charles’ absence as an opportunity to unleash hell and turn the mansion upside down.

Never mind that their Vice Headmaster was Magneto, former reformed leader of the Brotherhood who had given up his so-called ‘evil ways’ (Mystique’s words, not his) to join Charles at his school after Cuba. Unfortunately for Erik, the students seemed to regard him only as a mild threat, compared to their genial and beloved Professor X, or their sharp defence and martial arts teacher, Mystique.

“They can sense you’re a big softie, you know,” Mystique teased him after breakfast that morning, when Erik had been forced to haul apart Bobby Drake and St. John Allerdyce before a firefight had erupted. “You’re not foolin’ anyone after twenty years, Erik.”

“Shut up,” was all Erik had managed, before Kitty came to timidly inform him that Scott, Jean, Jubilee and Kurt had snuck out in one of Charles’ classic cars for a joyride. Mystique’s gleeful laughter was simply the icing on the cake as she left him to deal with this mess. It wasn’t fair; she’d returned to the mansion around the same time as him, after they had successfully foiled the assassination plot on Kennedy. Over the years, she’d somehow managed to build a fearsome reputation while the students seemed to think it was fine to walk all over their Vice Headmaster. (Erik had considered whether he should start shoving students off the satellite dish again, but Charles tended to get a bit shouty about that so Erik had to find some other way to make the students fear him again.)

There were days when Erik rued his decision to give in to Charles’ pleas to come and teach at his precious school, and this was one of them. He made sure to emphasize this to Charles repeatedly during their nightly phone call.

“You’re being dramatic, darling.” Charles sounded warm and soothing on the phone, and Erik wished heartily that he had put up a bigger fight and insisted he accompany Charles to DC instead of Moira and Hank. “The children love and respect you. Trust me, I’d know if they didn’t.”

“They make a very good show of hiding it, then,” Erik said dryly. “I don’t care about their love, I’m just asking for a modicum of respect.”

“They do, I assure you.” There were muffled voices in the background, and Charles murmured something before the voices faded and the door slammed shut. Now it was quiet again. Erik allowed himself to imagine Charles propped up in bed, or maybe admiring the view of the Washington Monument from his hotel room, his wheelchair parked by the window. It was an image that made Erik’s throat tighten with affection and longing.

“When will you be back again?” Erik hoped he sounded nonchalant enough and not like he’d been counting the days of Charles’ absence like some sad puppy.

“The referendum’s finally over, so after Moira meets with some of her ex-colleagues, we’re wrapping this up and flying home soon.” Playfulness crept into Charles’ tone. “Miss me that much, do you?”

Any other time, Erik would have said something gruff or sarcastic, but a day of dealing with errant students had worn Erik down far more than he’d wanted to admit. In particular, that punk Allerdyce had made some nasty threats against Drake. While Erik could normally identify (and even empathize) with the angry and destructive students, Allerdyce had once said something derogatory about Charles that had forever earned him a place in Erik’s blacklist, so Erik wasn’t quite in a forgiving mood.

In fact, he’d been in a _terrible_ mood since Charles had left the mansion.

“You know I do,” Erik blurted out. “I can’t do this shit without you, Charles. Well, I _could_ , but I don’t particularly want to.”

“The sooner you admit I’m always right, the better off we’ll all be.” Charles sounded far too gleeful for his own good.

Erik rolled his eyes. “You do know that gloating is horribly unattractive, right?”

Charles’ laugh was as clear as a bell over the phone. Damn, Erik missed him so much. “I’ve only been gone a week and already you find me less attractive?”

“Well, that depends.” Erik’s voice dropped to a lower register. “What are you wearing right now?”

Despite the chuckle, Charles sounded a little breathless. “ _Really_? Are we _really_ doing this?”

“Why not?” Just to be sure, Erik sent out a few tendrils of his power to make sure no one else was listening in on the line. It was past midnight and the students were supposed to be asleep, but Erik had to check anyway. Satisfied, he fused the lock of the door so that no one could barge in with claims of nightmares or fire and ruin his private time with Charles. “We’re both healthy adults, and I haven’t gotten laid in a week.”

Phone sex would unfortunately never be as good as the real thing - having Charles in his arms and in his head - but Erik knew beggars could not be choosers.

“Fair enough.” There were sounds of rustling and a soft grunt from Charles, which Erik could recognize immediately as signs that he was making himself more comfortable in bed. “Lilac jumper.”

“What?” Erik was confused, wondering if this was a new safeword.

“You asked me what I was wearing.” The amusement in Charles’ voice was obvious. “I’m wearing slacks and that lovely lilac jumper you got me two months ago.”

Ah, _that_ lilac sweater. Erik hadn’t put much thought into the gift; it was something he’d seen in the windows of Macy’s and thought that Charles would like. He hadn’t anticipated how well it would fit the broad width of Charles’ shoulders, or highlight his firm arm muscles. Best of all, Erik loved how the dip of the v-neck exposed just the right amount of pale, freckled skin and a tantalizing glimpse of Charles’ collarbone.

“Remember the first time you wore it?” Now it was Erik’s turn to make himself more comfortable in bed. “I particularly enjoyed...breaking it in.”

“Mmmm.” There was a hoarseness in Charles’ voice that Erik knew meant that he was turned on. “You mean how you almost fucked me off the bed while I was wearing that jumper and nothing else?”

Erik’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “In all fairness, I did help you get the stains off afterwards.”

“I think I can still make them out on the jumper, if I squint.” Charles’ voice took on a confessional tone. “I like that, the idea of having your come on me.”

Erik let out a groan, using his powers to float the receiver beside his ear so that both his hands were free to slide into his boxers. “Me too. I love it, marking you as mine.”

“What would you do if you were here?” Charles sounded dreamy, almost wistful. “Tell me, Erik, how you’d ruin me.”

Erik released a shuddery breath. After so many years, no one could reduce him to sheer want and longing the way only Charles could. “I’d peel those slacks off you,” he promised. “And take off your boxers with my teeth.”

“Go on.” There were rustling sounds that indicated Charles was going along with Erik’s suggestions.

“I’d make you keep that sweater on,” Erik said, shoving down his own underwear and wrapping a hand around his already eager, half-hard cock. “I’d ruck it up and kiss your amazing chest, then your stomach.”

“God, Erik.” There was something about Charles’ prim British accent saying that word that made Erik even harder. “I want your mouth on me so badly, darling. I want to thread my fingers through your hair and tug on it until you moan.”

It was unfair just how well Charles knew how to push his buttons. “Fuck, I love when you do that.”

“I know.” Charles was such a smug bastard sometimes.

“I’d pull down the sweater again,” Erik said, starting to stroke in earnest. His breath was coming in short pants. “Then I’d lick your nipples through the fabric, make you scream--”

Charles made such an obscene sound that Erik had to still his hand to fight down his impending orgasm. “Erik, I need your mouth on me so badly,” Charles moaned. “Those fingers, that sinful tongue of yours.”

“Speaking of tongue,” Erik said, his voice getting hoarse, “this is where I realize I need to kiss you so badly that I can’t take it anymore. So I’d leave those lovely hard nipples of yours, just to kiss you senseless. I want to take your mouth and make you moan for me.”

“Yes, God, yes,” Charles sighed. “I want to suck on your tongue the way I suck on your cock.”

Dammit, this could be over a lot sooner than Erik hoped. He’d been so keyed up from Charles’ absence and the antics at the mansion that he hadn’t realized just how much on the edge he was. “Fuck, Charles,” Erik rasped, his strokes speeding up as he wheeled through a mental slideshow of the thousands of blowjobs Charles had given him over the years, good ones and not-so-good ones and sloppy ones and ones where Erik’d passed out after coming. Sex with Charles was the best he had ever had, bar none.

He could just imagine Charles now in his hotel room, playing with his own nipples and flushed pink with arousal, dark hair tousled against his pillow, that damned lilac sweater rucked up and displaying his pretty pale stomach, his hardened nipples. Sometimes Charles had erections, and sometimes he didn’t. But Erik wasn’t focused on that; he was imagining Charles’ eyes gone dark with arousal, his lips bitten red. Erik would bruise them with kisses when Charles finally returned to him.

“Tell me what- what you’re doing now,” Erik begged. “I’m thinking of you all spread out in those warm sheets. Fuck, I want to join you there.”

“I want you here so badly, darling.” Charles’ voice was getting higher, a sign that he was so close to the edge. “Miss you so much. Every night I've touched myself and imagined it's you.”

Fuck, they could have been doing this together every night since Charles left for DC. Erik closed his eyes and surrendered to the building heat under his skin that only Charles' touch could ever quench.

“Come for me,” Erik growled. “Come all over that lilac sweater, _please_. Then bring it back to me.”

“Pervert,” Charles choked on a laugh, before sighing as he resumed spiraling towards bliss. “God, Erik, I’m going to pounce on you when I get back, suck your cock and swallow everything you have--”

Erik dragged up his favorite image of Charles, blazing blue eyes locked with Erik’s as he let the head of Erik’s cock nuzzle against his cheek before swallowing him down swiftly in one go. Finally giving in to his orgasm, Erik let it roar through him, pleasure singing in his blood as wet stripes coated his hand and stomach. “Fuckfuckfuck, Charles--”

“Oh God, Erik!” There was a long, low moan on Charles' end of the phone and Erik drank it up greedily, the raw sound of Charles’ pleasure making his spent cock twitch with one last spurt of semen.

There was rough, labored breathing for a few moments as both of them struggled to catch their breath, and the silence was broken by Charles’ husky chuckle. “Well, would you look at that?”

“Look at what?” Erik asked sleepily. Lax with pleasure and affection, the situation at the mansion didn’t seem so dire anymore, especially not when Charles was returning to him very soon.

“The jumper. It’s stained again.” Charles was laughing out loud now, happy and lovely and playful and the perfect balm to Erik’s previously frazzled nerves.

“Good.” Erik’s mouth curled up into a smile. “Bring it back to me _exactly_ how it is.”

“Pervert,” Charles said again, and Erik didn’t bother to refute his accusation.


End file.
